


Slings And Arrows

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-24
Updated: 2004-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1626362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iolaus had died in his arms, again - had been beaten to death, because he had refused to tell the Enforcer where Hercules was - and now, every time he looked at Iolaus, it was like getting kicked in the chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slings And Arrows

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LtLJ

 

 

Hercules pushed back from the table, suppressing a groan as he watched Jason carry in a huge platter of fruit and cheese. The table was already laden with food: honey-glazed roast quail, grilled boar, chickpeas with lemon and olive oil, stewed rabbit, fresh greens, flatbread, olives, and almond-stuffed dates. Alcmene had pulled out all the stops this time, both because she wanted to celebrate Iolaus' return from the other side and because Iolaus had complained of hunger non-stop on the way back.

"They had these bowls of fruit _everywhere_ , and Persephone kept offering me drinks and little things on sticks, and I was so hungry! I think she's lonely, Herc - it's no life down there for a lovely young woman like her."

Hercules had stopped and stared at him. "Tell me you didn't say that to Hades."

Iolaus had just grinned. "Well, no, but when she insisted on giving me a full tour of the Underworld while he caught up on his paperwork, I think he got the hint."

Hercules shook his head. Now that he thought about it, he knew Iolaus had been trying to distract him, keep him from thinking about what had happened. It hadn't worked, though.

Iolaus had died in his arms, _again_ \- had been beaten to death, because he had refused to tell the Enforcer where Hercules was - and now, every time he looked at Iolaus, it was like getting kicked in the chest. He clenched his fingers around his knife. He couldn't be mourning Iolaus when he was right there, for pity's sake.

"Hercules? Would you like some cheese? You've hardly eaten anything."

He looked up, startled, and saw Alcmene smiling at him from the other side of the table. "No thanks, Mother." He paused. "Iolaus probably would, though."

"I asked you, not Iolaus," Alcmene said sternly, and he sighed. He had never been able to put anything over on his mother. Iolaus giggled softly beside him, and the sound was a sweet pain.

Alcmene cut a large hunk of goat's cheese and handed it to him on a piece of flatbread. "Here. Eat this."

Slowly, he did as she told him. The cheese looked fresh, but it tasted like ashes in his mouth, and he had to wash it down with large swallows of wine. Persephone had eaten half a pomegranate after Hades abducted her, because she wanted to stay with him and knew that eating the fruit would condemn her to the Underworld forever. What would he have done, if he had not managed to get Iolaus back?

Alcmene beamed at him as he swallowed the last of the bread. Jason sat closely beside her, contentedly spearing bits of cheese with his knife. He looked like a farmer at the end of a bountiful harvest, not like someone who had been holding off Hera-sent demons for most of the day.

"How's that cut on your arm?" Hercules asked.

Jason made shushing motions at him, then schooled his face into a placid expression as Alcmene turned her head to look at him. "Fine. Can't feel a thing."

Alcmene examined the rough bandage with pursed lips. "Definitely needs changing. It's a good thing you reminded me, Hercules." She got up to rummage in her medicine chest.

"Oh, yes," Jason agreed blandly, giving Hercules a black look while Alcmene's back was turned.

"Come, dear," Alcmene said. "I'll wash the cut out first, and then I'll bandage it for you."

Jason stood up. He had the resigned look of a man sentenced to a grim fate, but when Alcmene took his arm and smiled sweetly up at him, he smiled back at her, the laugh lines at his eyes crinkling. They headed toward the bathroom at the back of the house, and Hercules watched them go. Maybe it hadn't been such a clever idea to direct Alcmene's attention elsewhere; now he was left alone with Iolaus.

"They're really good together," Iolaus remarked. He got up from behind the table, taking his empty winecup with him, and walked toward the hearth.

Hercules turned round and nodded, facing him with an effort that he hoped went unnoticed. "Yeah, they are."

Iolaus straddled the stone bench in front of the fireplace, his face turned toward Hercules. The distance between them felt awkward, and Hercules looked down, gathering his courage.

"So," Iolaus said conversationally, drawing one leg up onto the bench, "Jason says you went a little insane out there."

Hercules looked up, startled. "What?"

"At the beach, I mean," Iolaus went on, as if Hercules would have any doubt what he was referring to. The firelight turned Iolaus' hair a reddish gold and darkened his eyes to the colour of the sea before a storm. The rise and fall of his bare chest caught and held Hercules' gaze.

"I really, really don't want to talk about this," Hercules managed before his throat closed up on him.

"Yeah, I guessed that much," Iolaus said. "You couldn't even tell me I was dead."

Hercules stared into the fireplace, swallowing hard. "Iolaus, I--"

"Next time, I'd appreciate not having to guess."

Next time. _Next time_.

"The next time someone asks you where I am and you decide to get yourself beaten to death, you mean?" he snapped, goaded beyond self-control. He wanted to unsay the words as soon as they were out, but all he could do was watch Iolaus' mouth tighten into a grim line.

"I'd do it again," Iolaus said. He sounded very calm, very sure. "You have to know that, Herc. You knew it when Maceus broke my wrist."

Hercules stood up abruptly, gripping the carved edge of the table. He wanted to hit something, hard, and he wanted to run out the door, and he wanted to kiss Iolaus until he shut up. For a moment he just stood there, swaying, heartbeat thundering in his ears.

"It's not worth it," he said at last, hoarsely. "Not for a warning, or a few moments' lead." He shuddered. He could still feel Iolaus' dead weight in his arms, his head lolling against his chest, and now Iolaus was talking calmly about doing it again. Dying for him again.

"Not for your life?" Iolaus shot back. "My choice, Hercules, and I'll make it again if I have to."

It was the old argument, the one he had lost time and time again and was losing now. The one he _had_ to lose, if he wanted to have Iolaus at his side.

He took a few steps, drawn to Iolaus as if by gravity, and knelt down on the flagstones in front of him. Iolaus bent towards him until their foreheads touched. Hercules closed his eyes. "I don't think _I_ can do this again," he said.

Iolaus sighed. "I know. I bet Hades doesn't want to see either of us soon, in any case." His hand trailed through Hercules' hair in wordless reassurance, then gently pulled at the back of his neck. Hercules responded, meeting Iolaus' mouth with his. He tasted of dates and wine. Hercules tried to remember to breathe as Iolaus' tongue stroked his, tried to hear what Iolaus was telling him, wordlessly - 'I'm here. I'm here.'

Iolaus broke the kiss at last, tugging at his shoulder. "C'mon. Get up here."

He sat down on the bench next to Iolaus, who immediately stood up. "No, it's okay, I just want to get something," Iolaus said, seeing his surprise, and so he stayed.

The fire crackled as he prodded the half-burnt log with the poker, and sparks flew up into the chimney. He could almost see the Enforcer's face in the flames.

Iolaus returned, carrying two small amphorae by their round handles. He sat down again, his thigh bumping into Hercules', and carefully laid one amphora on the floor, keeping the other cradled in his arm.

Hercules stared at it. "Iolaus, that's the sweet wine from Samos. Amphitryon laid that down forty years ago."

Iolaus raised an eyebrow.

"You know Alcmene will kill you if she finds out, don't you?" He tried to recall when she had last brought out that wine. Was it at his marriage to Deianeira?

"Actually, she was the one who gave them to me," Iolaus said. He wedged the amphora between his thighs and tugged at the dusty cork. "It's for special occasions, after all."

Hercules clasped his arms about his knees. "You're all treating this as though it's -- some kind of party." His voice grew rough again, and he swallowed.

Iolaus poured the wine carefully into his black-figured drinking cup. "Well, isn't it?" he said mildly. "For one thing, we haven't been home in ages. And for another, I much prefer a party to a wake."

Hercules laid an arm about Iolaus' shoulders cautiously, not wanting to startle him while he was pouring. "Don't think that I'm not grateful," he began, but Iolaus shook his head at him fondly, his curls flying. "I know, don't start. If we have to start being grateful to each other, we'll never stop."

Iolaus grinned at him, then handed him the cup. He raised it and drank. The wine was as good as he remembered it, sweet and strong; it flowed over his tongue like molten sunlight. He handed it back to Iolaus and watched the strong lines of his throat as he swallowed.

They handed the cup back and forth until the amphora was empty, exchanging kisses as well as wine. Iolaus made no move to open the second one, and Hercules didn't urge him. Perhaps Alcmene and Jason would share the other, later; it wasn't the kind of wine you could drink by the rhyton.

"What's taking Alcmene and Jason so long?" he muttered, realizing that they had been gone for quite some time.

Iolaus nudged him in the ribs, grinning. "I can't believe you even have to ask."

Hercules hid his own smile and tried to look stern, which was almost impossible in the face of that incandescent grin. "Iolaus. That's my mother you're talking about."

"Yep, and after Zeus and Demetrius, her taste in men is definitely improving - hey!" Iolaus protested as Hercules tugged at his hair. "On the other hand, they're not going to stay in the bathhouse forever."

Hercules wrapped an arm around him. "You want to go somewhere?"

Iolaus' eyes glinted. "That depends. Did you see if the ladder's still there?"

Hercules groaned.

* * *

They walked through the garden and along the path under the big trees, weaving slightly from the wine. It was a beautiful night, warm and clear, and the starlight was bright enough to see by. The slight breeze brought the scent of pine resin and Alcmene's roses.

The oak was taller than ever, a dark giant standing over them. Hercules unwound his hand from Iolaus' hair and felt for the ladder hidden in the trunk's shadow. The rungs still fit his hands, still held his weight. He smiled. He had been such an awkward kid compared to Iolaus, who had moved like lightning caught in a bottle even then. Iolaus had teased him all the time when they built the tree fort: "We'd better build this out of the hardest wood we can find, or you're going to wreck it. Hey, you think we can find something that's as hard as your head?"

Iolaus had insisted they bring both their bedrolls and their packs, even though it was warm enough to sleep on the bare boards, and Hercules hoisted the lot over his shoulder and climbed rapidly to the top. The patched boards creaked under his feet in exactly the same spots as ever.

"Are you coming up?" he called down softly to Iolaus, just to tease him; he was already halfway, and Hercules resisted the temptation to find some acorns to throw at him. They weren't kids anymore, as hard as that was to remember up here.

He unrolled their bedrolls and hung their packs from a handy branch at the bottom end of the platform. Alcmene would know where they were the moment she saw that their packs were gone, and he knew she wouldn't mind; they had spent almost every summer night up here when they were young.

He sat down with his back against the trunk and watched Iolaus come up the ladder, his hair looking white in the starlight.

Iolaus smiled to see him, looking so happy that Hercules felt his stomach turn over. All the wine seemed to rush to his head at once, leaving him dizzy and afraid. He had last seen Iolaus smile like that when they stood on the hills above Thebes, looking down on their hometown -- just before Hera's lightning struck. The same lightning that had taken his wife and children away.

Iolaus knelt between his spread legs and leaned in to kiss him enthusiastically, then frowned when he did not respond. "Hey, what's the matter?" His voice was soft, but Hercules heard a hint of impatience in it. Well, Iolaus had said it already; he wanted to celebrate, not hold a wake, and Hercules could hardly blame him for that. He just wished he knew what to do with the grief that welled and ebbed beneath his breastbone.

He could barely see Iolaus' features in the shadow of the leaves, but perhaps something of his struggle showed in his own; he felt the tension between them change. Iolaus nodded as if to himself, then moved closer to sit half in his lap and half on the wooden boards. "It's okay," he said, setting his hands down on Hercules' shoulders. "It wasn't easy. I know. You don't have to push it all away. Just," and he hesitated, swallowed, "don't -- push _me_ away?"

His courage took Hercules' breath; he knew Iolaus would not have said those words to anyone else, not for a king's ransom or a queen's favor.

"I won't," he said in a half-whisper, and caught Iolaus up against him, squeezed him until his ribs creaked. "I can't live without you--" and this time Iolaus kissed him into silence.

 

 

 


End file.
